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BUMP “Bump, Bump, Bump,” sounded throughout the second floor of my home. “Bump, Bump, Bump,” the sounds were as loud as I could make them. “Kenny Delgon, what are you doing? Stop making so much noise!” yelled my fifteen-year-old sister. Good, I had gotten her attention. “Bump, BUMP, Bumppity, Bump!” I heard her footsteps as she left her room and came closer to my door. “Bump, Bump, Bump!” “Will you shut up!” yelled my older sister. “Bump, BUMP, Bumpitty Bumptitty Bump!” I replied, kicking the wall as hard as I could. My parents weren’t home, and I desperately needed my sister’s help.B “I’m coming in there,” she warned. She rattled the doorknob, which was locked, of course. “Are you OK? She asked. I stopped kicking at the wall and yelled into my gag. “Mmph, mmmph, ummph.” “Do you need help?” she asked. “BUMP Bump,” and “mmmmmmmph.” I replied as best I could. The door was locked for good reason. I didn’t want anyone to find out what I was doing. But I needed help, and my sister and I were home alone, thank God, because I might be able to live after my sister discovered what I was doing, but I didn’t think I could bear having my Mom or Dad see me as I was. “I’m going down to the basement to get the screwdriver to open your door with,” yelled my sister. “I’ll be right back. I tried to relax, even though my position had become rather uncomfortable. After a few minutes I heard the sound of the tiny tool poking through the little hole in the doorknob to unlock it. I heard the door open. I heard my sister say, “What the hell are you doing?” What she saw was a naked thirteen year old boy lying face down on his bed, hands chained behind his back, legs spread wide with ankles chained to the bed posts, some kind of gag in his mouth. I heard her walk closer, then I could see her coming to the side of my bed. She picked up the Playboy magazine propped up on a pillow so I could easily see it. She leafed through a few pages. “Girls of Australia, is it?” she inquired. I grunted into my gag. It had been opened to one of my favorite pages, a page with a picture of a cute girl at the beach smiling over her shoulder. A cute girl with a marvelous ass. “I’m confiscating this of course,” my sister said dryly. Now this was 1964. It was before Penthouse Magazine or the many similar mags that followed in the late sixties and seventies. It was way before the Internet, with its inexhaustible free porn. The main way for a teen boy who didn’t look old enough to buy cigarettes – say fifteen – to get a copy was to borrow it from a friend whose Dad brought it home and didn’t hide it very well. Every copy was precious. But I was tightly chained and gagged by my own hand. I couldn’t effectively object. “So, you like to tie yourself up while you play with yourself?” asked my perspicacious sister. She pulled on the chains holding my wrists close together. “Um.” I nodded. “And I suppose you can’t get yourself loose?” she asked, while examining the padlock. “Um.” I nodded. “Would you like me to take that gag out of your mouth? She said simpering, letting here hand slide down to my butt. “Um, Um”, I nodded. “Or should I wait until Mom comes home, and let her do it,” she said, lightly stroking my rear and thighs. I could feel my penis harden again. “Unh, Unh, Unh”, I shook my head from side to side. “Ok, um, wait one minute,” she said, then abruptly left the room. Lucky for me there were no digital cameras in the sixties. Unluckily there were Polaroids. I heard my sister walk in, then I heard the distinctive click of the shutter and soft “phwuck” of the flashbulb. Then she walked into my view as she turned the knob to squeeze the film pack out of the camera. She let me watch as the picture of my naked chained body slowly developed itself. “This is just too delicious” she remarked. “Ok, I’ll start by taking the gag out of your mouth, and then you can explain yourself,” she said. Her hands went to the back of my neck where my scout neckerchief was tied. After removing the neckerchief she found my mouth was still full of some pink material. She pulled it out of my mouth and yelled, “These are MY panties. They’re sopping wet with your slobber. My God you little creep, I’ve been wearing panties that have been in your goddam mouth!” she shrieked. “No, no,” I protested. “They’re old ones you threw out, I never…” “You’ve had my panties in your mouth while you played with yourself. You think about ME when you masturbate!” she yelled. “Oh, I’m gonna give it to you good you little pervert.” She started to spank me on my bare ass with here bare hand. Whoa. Ooh. Ow. Some Ow, but mostly Ooh. I started moving my hips up and down, rubbing myself against the bed sheets. Wow! The spanking stopped, but I didn’t. “What the hell are you doing, you creepy little pervert. You’re getting yourself off? Oh just you wait” she yelled. I kept humping my bed while she looked around my room. There was a ruler on my desk, not a thin little school ruler, but a fairly hefty eighteen-inch ruler. “Smack, Smack, Smack”, over and over that ruler hit my ass. Way harder than the hand spanking. It wasn’t long before I convulsed in climax, I tried to relax and catch my breath while my sister continued to smack my ass. “Ok, Ok, enough, please stop,” I gasped. “Uncle,” I shouted, trying to keep back tears. “So you’ve had enough?” my sister asked, resting her hand on my butt. “Yes.” “And did you enjoy that?” she inquired. I opened my eyes and looked into hers. “Yeah. It was… great.” “Your ass is really red,” she said, piquantly. She massaged my sore butt. “Hmmm” she said. “So I guess you want me to untie you now?” she asked. “Soon,” I replied. “Where’s the key?” she asked.” “On the floor, under the radiator,” I replied. “You should have tied it onto a string so it wouldn’t get away from you,” she said using her older smarter sister voice. “Yeah,” I replied. “Give it to me so I can get myself loose,” I said. “No, I think I’ll hold on to this,” she said. But she did start unlocking the little padlocks chaining my feet to the bedposts. She removed the chains that had let me move just enough to bang against the wall. “Roll over,” she demanded. “I want to see your thingy.” “What? NO!” I shouted. “Oh, don’t be silly,” she giggled. “I’ve seen it before, we used to take baths together,” she said. “Not like this,” I thought. I still had my hands restrained behind my back, and she was, at that time, bigger and stronger than me. She pulled me towards the edge of the bed and flipped me onto my back. “You’re all covered with goo,” she called out happily. I was still more than half erect, and, like she said, my tummy was nastily wet with semen. Her eyes were fixed on my penis, and to my great surprise, she touched it. She gently stroked it ‘til it got harder. She sniffed the slime on her fingers with a feigned expression of disgust and then wiped her fingers off on my thigh. Then she took another picture with the Polaroid camera. “So, tell me,” she asked, tickling my scrotum, “would you like to do that again?” “Um,” I said. “Um, yeah, well maybe.” She unlocked my wrists and I was free, finally. “Even the spanking?” “Um, well…” “I’m having a sleepover on Friday night. Be prepared.” |